Walking Small: Dorm Room Crisis

My eyes open suddenly as I realize a wet, citrus tasting finger gently running over my lips. I can hear noises, talking, all around me. Several bodies watch in aw as one man tries to revive me while I lay in bed shaking uncontrollably. A rush of orange juice flows into my mouth, immediately coming back up as I gag for oxygen.

The stench of urine and vomit fill the air but he keeps working, trying, hoping. I have gained consciousness even though I have no ability to alter the events taking place. My life rests in the hands of a few relatively new friends. The paramedics would be arriving shortly.

I know what I have to do. I need to sit up on the edge of the bed, hold the juice glass in my hand and drink. My arms and legs won't cooperate, there is not enough glucose to manage them and they have run a muck. Strong hands push me down trying to stop the troubled limbs. Amazingly, in my current condition I am able to frustrate these hands with raw sporadic bursts of power. Seconds, minutes, what seems like hours go by, an eternity of pain and confusion...

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I was a sophomore in high school at the Green Mountain Valley School, a boarding school for the potentially gifted skier. This was my first Diabetic reaction since beginning the school 7 months prior.

There was considerable pressure on me to start regulating my blood sugar better before this incident. I had not been taking my insulin on a regular basis and resulted in an inflated A1C. On the phone, my parents were furious when they found out the results and threatened (for the better) to take me out from the school if I did not improve my blood sugar levels.

The phone call left a lasting impression on me. I did not want to go back home, my life here was fun and exciting. That night weeping in bed motivated me to drastically change my ways. Three times a day I was monitoring my blood sugar, logging the values, taking my insulin on time, feeling stronger and healthier each passing day.

Keeping my sugars at a relatively low level, opposite to my previous ways was not easy as well as dangerous. The boarding school involved rigorous physical training during the off season to keep us in shape for the upcoming ski season resulting in dramatic swings in my sugars, mostly towards the lower levels.

The climax came that one night during the spring sleeping in my bed (the lower of the bunk beds). My roommate, now a good friend, was sleeping peacefully above me. I can't recall all of the incident from my own memory. From my point of view, I woke up midway though the ordeal. My brother, who also happened to be going to the school at the time (a senior) and living in the same dormitory, filled in the remaining gaps.

Supposedly I had waken in the middle of the night in a sleep walk state exploring the halls. Screaming wildly, wetting my boxer shorts and arousing the rest of the dorm's inhabitants. From there I was forced to my bed by my brother and ski coach (who happened to be our dorm parent). The paramedics were called while my coach slowly but surely revived me to a somewhat normal state.

My mood following the revival towards the paramedics arriving on the scene was verbally grotesque. I believed that their knowledge of Diabetes was minimal at best and it frustrated me. My glucose level was affecting my mood severely.

It turns out that my blood sugar level at the time of the event was hovering around 16, just enough to keep my brain in somewhat working order. I was taken to the hospital by ambulance for observation (few hours). After, I was driven home and returned to classes for the day.

I felt awkward and embarrassed when a friend would come up to me and ask how I was doing. Instead of telling the truth, I brushed it off with an "I'm fine". I made believe the incident never happened and continued on with my schooling.

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